Oh, Brothers
by Fluff.and.Rainbows
Summary: AU. Matthew and Ludwig have one thing in common: pain in the necks for brothers! Gilbert and Alfred have one thing in common, too: They do NOT want their brothers together. Ludwig/Matthew? BEING EDITED.
1. The Not So Awesome First Meeting

**Warning.** I don't know, really. I used the word "fag?"

**I kinda wish **_**Hetalia**_** was mine. That'd be cool.

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He watched quietly, as per usual, while his brother made a fool of himself. Again. He sighed tiredly and buried his face in his polar bear's fur, ignoring the soft, "Who?"

He was so tired lately. He didn't quite know why, though Francis kept asking him if he was feeling depressed. He would reply no, of course, to which Francis would offer _love_ in exchange for helping him feel happier. Matthew would then blush scarlet, turn, and run.

Was he depressed? Or just sick of running from Francis all the time? He snorted quietly. It was probably the later. Everybody was sick of running from Francis. _Everybody._

Alfred stomped over to his brother and hauled him rather forcefully out of his seat, turning to glare at Arthur over his shoulder. "Yeah, well, America is _so much_ cooler than England, and you know it! Hmph." With that, he began to drag his younger brother out of the rec. room.

"Al..." He sighed, but let himself be carried off down the hall.

Alfred began a rather minutely detailed rant about how Arthur was a great big fag and how, one day! One day he would see the error of his ways and realize he, Alfred F. Jones, the HERO! Was the better, more brilliant one and that AMERICA! Was the better nation. One day!

He was so busy detailing this to Matthew, and Matthew was far too busy trying to keep his eyes open and not trip over his own feet, that they didn't notice the other pair of brothers coming down the hall towards them.

They were similarly engaged.

Ludwig ran his hand over his face as his brother hauled him by the other hand toward the rec. room. Gilbert had left earlier, after being thoroughly, verbally beaten by Arthur for making a comment he was too awesome to remember now, and Ludwig had been forced to go after him. After cheering his brother up by saying, through clenched teeth, that, _sure_, Gilbert was the most awesome thing to ever hit the world, _ever_, the albino decided it was time for revenge. Ludwig was, again, forced to come along for the ride. Gilbert was ranting about how the awesome him was going to show that so not awesome Arthur who was boss.

They then crashed into each other, the two pairs.

Alfred and Gilbert collided in a colossal head butt that sent Gilbert sprawling onto the floor. Alfred, being the man of steel that he was, simply went, "Oof," and rubbed his forehead, frowning. Ludwig managed to rip his hand from his brother's grasp in time to keep his own balance, and caught Matthew before he could end up in a similar state as the now groaning albino on the floor. However, he did not realize he had done this, as Matthew's powers of invisibility had activated again. Note the sarcasm.

"That was so not awesome!" Gilbert cried, scrambling up from the floor and ignoring the totally not awesome tears gathering in his eyes. He was not crying. Dust had gotten into his eyes from the fall, that was all. Definitely.

Alfred stared blankly at the albino's face before getting an expression of utmost concentration upon his features. After several moments of almost awkward staring between the two of them, Alfred finally shook his head and shrugged. "Yeah, who are you again?"

Gilbert sputtered indignantly. "Who am I_?_ Who _am I_! I'm _Gilbert _the_ Awesome!_"

Alfred and Kumajirou simultaneously questioned, "Who?"

Matthew sighed and leaned against Ludwig's chest, forgoing modesty in his tiredness. "He's Ludwig's brother."

Alfred blinked. "Seriously?" He looked from one German gentleman to the other and frowned once again. "They look nothing alike!"

Matthew thunked his forehead against the younger German's chest and sighed again.

Alfred laughed. "Anyway, my bad." He slapped Gilbert on the back, which knocked the poor man back onto the floor. "See ya! Mattie and I have to go storm off angrily away from Arthur. Then, I think we'll go get a burger. What'cha think, Mattie?"

"I--"

"It's decided! Burger time it is! You can stop being so insistent, Mattie, sheesh."

Matthew didn't even know why he bothered sometimes.

Ludwig, meanwhile, was confused. "Who is this..._Mattie?"_

Gilbert snorted and picked himself up off the floor again. "The guy you're holding all fag like, brother."

Ludwig looked down, and was shocked to see the mop of blond hair currently leaning on his chest. When did that get there? The mop tilted back to reveal violet colored eyes underneath a pair of glasses and heavy bags. Ludwig blushed to the roots of his slicked back hair and rapidly back peddled, causing Matthew to tip forward again. Ludwig then saved him, again, and they were back at square one.

Matthew sighed for the umpteenth time and stepped back, brushing off his clothes. He yawned and rubbed his eyes before saying, "Sorry, Ludwig. Didn't mean to lean on you for so long."

Ludwig was still wondering when on earth the other blond had started leaning on him _at all_. He didn't remember ever seeing him, only the obnoxious American. It was like the Canadian was invisible or something. Note the awe, none of the sarcasm.

Alfred pursed his lips as he watched the two interact. Something was off with Mattie. He didn't normally sigh that much, did he? Huh. Oh, well, burger time!

"Later, Ludwig, Ludwig's-brother-who's-name-I-don't-remember! Come on, Mattie, burgers!" And he grabbed his brother's hand once again to yank him down the hall.

At that same moment, Gilbert grabbed the front of his own brother's uniform to drag him down the hall toward the rec. room and the insufferable British man he meant to chew out. "Come on, brother, let's go kick that fag's ass!"

Matthew and Ludwig both groaned, glanced at each other, and not-quite-but-almost-for-both-of-them-were-far-too-tired-for-this-sort-of-thing _smiled_ sympathetically for the other.

Oh, brothers...

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**Author's Notes.**

I wouldn't know, seeing as I'm an only child. Haha.

Anyway, this may end up progressing into a series. Possible Ludwig/Matthew with Gilbert and Alfred bein' all "NOOOO," 'cause there's also Alfred/Matthew and Gilbert/Ludwig. D'AW, POSSESSIVE BROTHERS!

What.

Uh, probably gonna include the Italy twins if I do turn this into a series. I've grown fond of Romano recently.

Incest all around, I guess. My bad.

Oh, and this started out as, you know, not AU, then I frowned at myself, because I only ever really used their human and not nation names. So, it became a boarding school AU. Huzzah. And, yes. Matthew has a small pet polar bear. At school. Ignore it, I didn't know what else to do with him, and I like Kuma far too much to leave him out.

So, there.

Carry on, folks. OTL


	2. Keeping Mattie Up At Night

**Warning. **Uh. Alfred and Gilbert being Alfred and Gilbert, and, uh, Francis being Francis. I don't know.

**I disclaim **_**you.

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Really, what was Mattie's problem? Sighing all the time, yawning, running into _doors_, not making any _sense! _It was really starting to tick Alfred off, but he didn't let it show. Oh, no, 'cause that wouldn't be very _hero-like_ of him. Instead, he tried to get Mattie to cheer up by inviting him out to get burgers, dropping by for homework (in his case, video games, but whatever), and, hell, he even sat through watching a game of Canadian hockey for the guy. How much more devoted can you get?

Nothing! _Nothing_ worked! Alfred was at his wit's end. Mattie had even stopped caring about school work as much as he used to. He got a B, a _B!_ On his last test. A _B!_ What was _wrong with him?_

Alfred was currently watching his baby brother sleep in the rec. room, his head pillowed on his arms on an empty table. His pet polar bear thing was off destroying the mini-fridge in the corner. Were Mattie his normal self, he'd be holding his pet thing tight enough that it wouldn't get away. The last time it did, it managed to get into a few of the vending machines down the hall. That didn't end well.

Not that anyone was noticing the arctic creature, nope. It had powers of invisibility much like Mattie's own. Alfred idly wondered what he'd have to do to harness that power. It would _so_ come in handy for playing pranks on Arthur. He grinned deviously at the thought, but then, _shockingly_, realized he was getting off topic and veered back on. He deserved a pat on the back for that, he did, but alas, now _I'm_ getting off topic.

Alfred, after much thought, concluded that Mattie just wasn't getting enough sleep at night. This lack of sleep then caused him to lose interest in his school work, thus that ghastly B. But what could be keeping Mattie up at night?

Immediately, he thought of Francis and became rather stony faced. That pervert was probably trying to _feel his brother up at night. _He'd have to put a stop to it! He stood up suddenly, which then woke Matthew.

"Al...?" He muttered tiredly before yawning in a rather cute manner that caught Alfred's attention. He ruffled his baby brother's hair, and the Canadian whined in protest. "Al, cut it out. What did you get up for?"

Alfred struck a pose, and Matthew let his head thunk back down onto the table, wondering why he even asked. Of course Alfred would make it dramatic, of course. "To save you, Mattie!" He proclaimed. "I know why you're so out of it!"

Still getting a face full of table top, Matthew asked, "You do?"

"Yes! You're not getting any sleep at night because!" He then whipped around and pointed accusingly at Francis, who was actually rather deep into a conversation with Antonio. For once, they were being serious, discussing something about the Italian twins Antonio was so fond of.

At Alfred's accusatory finger, however, Francis reverted back to his normal lecherous grin and produced a rose out of thin air. "_Oui_, Alfred?"

"You!" He shook his finger for dramatic effect. "Have been molesting my brother at night!"

There was silence, then Arthur snorted into his tea. This shook Matthew out of his initial shock and he smacked his brother in the head with a nearby binder. "No, you idiot!"

Francis smiled and handed Matthew the rose, to which he blushed, still quietly fuming at his brother's sheer nerve and lack of tact. "But it's a nice idea, _non_?"

Arthur idly wondered if one could pass out from blood rush to the face. Matthew looked like he just might. He then sipped his tea and ignored them all, save for throwing the rest of his beverage onto Francis when he passed. I mean, how could he pass up a chance to do _that? _This started an argument between the two of them, but they're not nearly as important right now. Moving on.

Alfred whined pitifully at being smacked and dropped back down into his seat, glaring heatedly at the rose Mattie now held gently. "You'd tell me if he was, right?" He asked.

Mattie sighed. The first time that day! "Yes, Alfred, I would. Don't worry."

Alfred beamed, then went back to wondering what on Earth could be keeping Mattie up at night. Did he have a lover?

He opened his mouth to ask, but Mattie cut him off before he could even get the words out. "I'm not seeing anyone, Alfred. Don't."

He closed his mouth, and he thought some more. Really, this was the most thought he had put into any one thing since...since...well, _ever. _The polar pet thing caught his eye as it nosed its way through the mill of students, pausing here and there to snatch something edible out of some mindless victim's pocket.

Matthew jumped up, crying, "Kumakichi!" And picked his pet up at once, scolding it all the way back to his seat. He held the bear tightly in his arms and slouched down in his chair, sighing. "You wear me out, Kuma..."

"Who?" The bear just asked, munching on a stolen chocolate chip cookie.

"Nevermind..."

Alfred watched them blankly for a few more seconds before he snapped his fingers and exclaimed, "That's it!"

"Oh, what now?" Matthew asked tiredly.

He didn't get an answer, as Alfred raced out of the room. He chose to ignore it, but didn't get a chance to as, once again, his brother ran into Gilbert. Gilbert, once again, landed in a heap on the floor. Alfred's last words as he rand own the hall were, "Sorry, what's-your-name!"

Gilbert shouted wordlessly and got up off the floor, scowling. "I hate that guy!"

Several people in the room murmured their agreement, and Matthew buried his face into Kumajirou's fur, thoroughly embarrassed. He jumped, however, when Gilbert threw himself into the seat next to him. Ludwig calmly sat down across from his brother, and he actually made eye contact with Matthew. The larger blond started, then nodded politely at him. "Hello, ah, Matthew?"

Matthew smiled politely. "Hello, Ludwig."

Meanwhile, Gilbert was raving on about that stupid, stupid, completely un-awesome American. However, when the Canadian's name passed his brother's lips, he stopped all movement. That was strange. Ludwig actually _remembered_ Matthew? He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his brother who, noticing the lack of white noise that was Gilbert's voice, turned to him, cutting himself off during his continued polite conversation with Matthew.

Blank faced, he asked, "Yes, brother?"

"You _remember him?" _

Matthew didn't know whether to be offended or not. He chose not to be, as it took less effort, and he was just too tired right now.

Ludwig nodded. "Of course I remember Matthew. Why wouldn't I?"

Gilbert's eye twitched noticeably, and both Ludwig and Matthew scooted away from him. Gilbert's mind went into overdrive. Ludwig had met Matthew many times before, but he had never once been able to remember him. Gilbert and Matthew did hang out on occasion, as Matthew's pancakes were nearly as awesome as Gilbert himself. Ludwig had even had some himself, but was unable to remember who exactly had made them. _Why did Ludwig remember him now?_

"Ah, brother?" Ludwig ventured, slightly concerned.

Gilbert shook his head quickly and grinned in a rather insane fashion (or maybe that was just his face? Who knows), and clapped Matthew on the back. "About time you remember him!"

But _why? _

His brain fizzled out, and he came to the conclusion that he was just thinking too hard. Someone as awesome as him shouldn't have to. He'd make Roderich do it later (if he could get passed Elizaveta, which was unlikely).

Alfred came running back into the room, grinning like a maniac (with a striking resemblance to Gilbert that neither Matthew nor Ludwig liked), made his way over to his brother, very quickly asked, "Hey, can I borrow Kuma-whatever-his-name-is?"

"Uh--"

"Thanks, buddy!" And he grabbed the bear and booked it.

Matthew sat, slightly shocked before he blinked a few times and said, "Well."

Gilbert snorted. "How do you stand that guy?"

Matthew and Ludwig once again made eye contact, and the older of the two shrugged. "You have to tolerate your brothers, after all," he said. At that, he pointedly looked at his own sibling.

Matthew couldn't help but agree.

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**Author's Notes.**

Nine reviews for one chapter? D'AW, I LOVE YOU GUYS. I have reclaimed you.

Ahem.

Effff-- I had _no idea _where to end it. And, if you'll notice, I only refer to Matthew as _Mattie _when Alfred is largely involved. Huzzah.

And, uh, Matthew is Canadian while Alfred is American _because _they are only half-brothers, Irish twins you could say, what with their looks and all, and Alfred is a little older. Different fathers, remarried mother. Their last names stay different that way.

I don't know, I hate logic. Eff.

ilu, guys, carry on.


	3. It's Got to Be

**Warning. **Nothing. At all. I think. Awkwardly long brotherly hug, maybe?

**Disclaimer. **I don't even want to own Hetalia at this point. Too much work. Who likes _work?_

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"Kuda?" Matthew called, wandering the halls of the center, looking for his bear. "Kula?' He tried again. No, that didn't sound right.. Oh, darn it, he could never remember the thing's name. Ku-whatever was lucky he was so adorable. "Kuma?"

"Who?" He heard from the dorm room he passed. Matthew stopped and frowned at the door. He had heard his bear, hadn't he?

"...Kuma?" He asked. That was the one that had worked, right?

"Who?" Ah, yes, there it was.

Matthew tried the knob on the door 7/4A and found it to be unlocked. Wasn't this Alfred's room...? He wandered in, clothes piling up like mountains all over the place. Old burger wrappers and take out bags littered the floor, knocked over, empty soda cups on the table. Pin up posters and a calender sporting some F-22s covered the walls, and the bedspread was an American flag. Yup, definitely Alfred's room.

"Kuma?" He called. His bear was nowhere to be seen, but he'd heard it in here, somewhere... There was a scratching from the closet door, barricaded by a clothes mountain, and a pitiful little whine floated out. "Kuma!" He frantically dug through the mountain until he reached the door, managing to wrench it open. His bear peered through the dark, blinking and sniffing. "Oh, Kuma, Al locked you in here?" Matthew sighed, running a hand through his hair and picking his bear up, who murmured another, "Who?" He flicked the closet light on to see if there was anything in there. The closet had been emptied out- sort of explained the clothes mountains- and in one corner was a litter box. The floor was lined with newspaper, and two empty bowls were against one wall. Matthew groaned. "Oh, Al, come on..."

"Who?" Kuma murmured sleepily, snuggling into Matthew's chest and quickly falling asleep. He snuggled in closer when a hand gently carded through his fur.

"Come on, Kuma, let's go back to our room," Matthew said with a soft smile, kicking aside clothes and shoes and wrappers to get to the door, quietly shutting it behind him. He'd really have to tell house keeping about Al's room. It was a fire hazard. He started the walk back to his room, once again wandering the halls as he yawned. Everything seemed to just blur together, every door looking exactly the same as the next. The letters and numbers pinned on them didn't even make sense...

Matthew stumbled with a quiet, "Whoa..." He fell back against a wall, bumping his head and groaning pitifully. He slid down to the floor and buried his face into Kuma's fur. He felt light-headed and...and...

Darn it.

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What on earth was that noise? It was like a scuffling and a whining... Occasionally, a sad, "Who, who?" could be heard, and Ludwig frowned to himself. He didn't like disorder. He didn't like surprises. Whatever pitiful thing was crying in the hall should really find some place to do that. Preferably somewhere private. Without Ludwig having _any chance at all_ of walking in. At all.

He turned the corner, a severe frown set in place, but he had to stop short at the sight in front of him. A blond person was slumped over on the ground, looking limp and lifeless. They looked...vaguely familiar, at least he thought so. A _polar bear_ cub was pawing at the person's shoulder, and it was the one crying, "Who, who?"

Ludwig knelt down, and the bear turned its beady eyes onto him, crying, "Who?" again and bumping its snout into Ludwig's pant's leg.

"What's happened?" He asked, although he didn't really expect the bear to be able to answer. He really _hoped_ the bear couldn't answer. The fact that it could say _who_ was weird enough for him already, thanks. He turned his attention to the blond person, gently placing a hand on their shoulder. "Excuse me, are you alright?" They didn't respond, and his severe frown returned.

With a sigh but a determined look, he picked the blond person up like a little bride, the bear watching intently. When the person's head tilted back, neck limp like the rest of him, Ludwig got a good look at his face. Blond curls, wire-rimmed glasses...

Didn't ring a bell. Well, it sort of dead. Whoever this- male, he realized- whoever this guy was, he was kind of...pretty. He couldn't help blushing at the thought and shook his head, scolding himself. You don't call boys _pretty._

He began a slow walk to the infirmary, the bear waddling along after him with a constant, "Who, who?"

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Oh, darn it...

Matthew groaned quietly, bringing a hand up to his eyes to rub the sand out of them. He frowned when he realized, oh, his glasses were off. He tried to open his eyes, but the bright lights made him squint, his head aching and his throat parched. He tried to swallow, but it only made him ache.

"Who?" He heard, and he turned to see his bear lying at the foot of the bed he found himself laying on. When had he...?

"Mattie!"

Matthew suddenly found himself in a vice like grip, gasping and squeezing his eyes shut. "Al, I can't breathe!" He wheezed, and he was just as suddenly let go. He gulped in air, putting a hand to his neck and rubbing the sore skin.

"Oh, Mattie, you gave me a heart attack! The lady here told me you where passed out and exhausted and all these other big words, but Mattie! You _passed out!_" Al rambled, taking Matthew by the shoulders to shake him.

Matthew managed to push his brother off and fumble for his glasses, finding them on the bedside table and putting them back on. "Can I have some water, Al?" He rasped.

"Oh, yeah!" Alfred shot out from his seat, bustling around the room. He found a water bottle and brought it over. Matthew took a few careful sips before smiling to his brother as thanks. "How'd you pass out?"

He shrugged. "I...don't know. I remember looking for Kuma-" Al squeaked, but Matthew kept talking, shooting his brother a mild glare. "And I found him in _your room_. I took him back, and...and I don't remember anything after that."

"Sorry about your bear, Mattie," Al said sheepishly, shrugging and trying to look innocent. It didn't really look. He hadn't been able to look innocent since he was six.

"Why in the world did you lock him in your _closet?_"

AL threw his hands up. "I thought he was keeping you up! You've been all tired and sigh-y and you got _B on a test!_" He pouted then, looking a kid who had expected praise but had gotten scolded instead. "I was just worried about you..."

Oh, guilt trip. "Oh, Al... I'm okay. It's not Kuma keeping me awake. I don't know what is. Thank you for caring." He gave his brother a hug and was, thankfully, not squeezed to death that time. They simply held each other for a moment, relishing in the comfort.

Alfred just _had_ to break it. "...it's not that German guy, is it?"

Matthew pulled back with a confused frown. "Germany guy? You mean _Ludwig?"_

"So it IS him!" Al shouted, shooting up from his seat again.

"No, Al!" Matthew groaned, running his hand over his eyes and under his glasses with a tired sigh. He really was _exhausted..._ "What makes you think that?"

"The lady that works here said that he brought you in and stayed for, like, _ever_." Al narrowed his eyes at his brother, looking for any hint of a lie. Mattie was a terrible liar.

"He did?" Matthew blushed faintly, looking to Kuma, who had crawled into his lap and settled down for a nap. "I'll have to thank him."

That's it, Al thought to himself. It's _got_ to be that German guy.

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**Author's Notes. **Well. This took forever, huh? I randomly thought, "Hey, why don't I read some of the nice reviews people have left me?" And reading the ones for _Oh, Brothers_ made me want to update it. This was thus born.

ilu :D Thanks for reading!


	4. Finding A Big Guy Shouldn't Be This Hard

**Warning. **A lot of cursing. A _lot_.

**If I owned **_**Hetalia**_**, then this wouldn't be **_**fan**_** fiction. **

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Where the tits was Westen? He'd just wandered off, right in the middle of a goddamn conversation! Shit, people could be so damn rude sometimes, but not Westen. Westen sat through fucking anything, because he was _Westen_ and they were _brothers_ which meant that he was _obligated_ to sit through Gilbert's shit.

Right?

Gilbert grumbled, stomping through the halls and telling anyone who shot him a dirty look to piss right the fuck off. He had to find his brother! He had important shit to ramble about, damn it, and Westen was the only one who would ever listen (besides Mattie, but he never really gave the kid a choice). He wasn't in his damn room, the rec. room, weight room, the Italian brat's room, the kitchens, _or_ anywhere outside. Where the fuck was he?

When he finally found his brother (who shouldn't be able to disappear like that. Guy was huge! It was expected from Mattie; dude was friggin' tiny), he was leaving the nurse's. Gilbert's heart didn't stop, no, and he didn't pale or start to freak out or-

"_Westen, what the fuck happened?_"

That was _not_ concern.

Ludwig sighed and pushed his now very flail-y brother off. "I'm not hurt, Gilbert, I am fine. Honestly."

Gilbert was circling around him then, eying him, just to make sure, and when he had decided for himself that, yes, Westen honestly was fine, he grinned and smacked his brother's ass. The resulting yelp and deep red flush on his face was _awesome_. "Cool, then why were you in the nurse's, huh? Break some kid's nose again?"

Ludwig rubbed his backside and grumbled something about, "I keep telling you, that was an _accident_," before he sighed and straightened himself back up. "I found that, that... Blond boy, Alfred's brother... Matthew?" Gilbert nodded and made a "go on," hand motion. "He was passed out in the hall. Apparently fainted from fatigue. I simply brought him to the nurse."

Gilbert's eyes were wide. "Whoa, shit, Mattie actually fucking _fainted?_" Shit. Mattie had been looking pretty sickly lately, but he didn't think it was that b- _wait_. "You remembered his _name?_" _Twice?_

Ludwig blinked, Gilbert's hands suddenly balled up in the front of his shirt. He gently set his brother back down, who looked far too wild-eyed for his taste. "Yes, I did. Why is that so surprising?" And why was it so hard to remember the pret- _boy's_ name after all (not pretty, Ludwig, remember? You don't call boy's pretty. Feliciano being _cute_ was an exception, but he was _the only one, damn it._)

Gilbert took a few deep breaths. Nobody remembers Mattie. His own fucking brothers forget about him half the time, especially that British bastard. He forgot him all the time, and his asshole brother only remembers on occasion. Francis remembers him because Francis remembers everybody (and their, _ahem_, assets). That Cuban dude remembers him only half the time; the other half, he's busy mistaking him for his asshole brother and trying to beat him up. The only other person to really remember him was fucking _Ivan_, but Ivan was a creepy fucking bastard who probably stalks the whole world, so that was no surprise. And Gilbert, being his _awesome_ self, remembered Mattie, of course! (He told himself it was for his kick ass pancakes; really, it was because people were starting to ignore him, too.)

_Why was Westen suddenly remembering Mattie?_

Why, why, _why_, **why**? Maybe... Maybe Westen _liked_ Mattie? He did seem to have a thing for the cute, clumsy type, like that Italian kid, what's his name? Feliciano? Not his brother, though, the one that cursed all the time. Fuck, what was his name? Whatever. Regardless, Ludwig liked cute boys. Mattie was cute. Therefore, Ludwig liked Mattie.

...oh, _ho_.

Ludwig was slowly backing up from his quietly cackling brother when the nurse snapped at them to leave, because _some_ people need to have their rest! (Oh, but thank you for being a sweetie and sitting with him, Ludwig, just please take your brother back to the psych ward.)

* * *

Now where the hell was that German guy? Not his brother, the creepy albino one, but the _big dude_, with the muscle and the slicked hair and the _eyes_ and-

Fucker better stay away from his goddamn brother, _goddamn it_.

Alfred huffed, stomping through the halls on his quest for the (probably Nazi) bastard. He had a thing or two he wanted to (violently) say to him about _keeping his brother up at night_. He was probably molesting him or something! Didn't Germany produce the most bondage porn in the world? Alfred gasped. He had to find that guy and _protect his little, baby brother!_

He rounded a corner and barreled right into somebody. Both parties grunted, although Alfred's was louder, and the others was more subdued. Neither side really wobbled, just stepped back. Alfred rubbed his forehead, pouting, and came face to face with that _German bastard_.

"You!" Alfred shouted, and Ludwig held in a sigh. Today was just not his day, was it?

"Can I help you?" He asked.

"Yeah, you can, punk! Stay away from my brother! I _know_ you're the one that's-"

"Alfred!"

Both blonds tensed, although Alfred considerably more so. They both turned to see a rather annoyed Matthew, arms crossed and glaring behind his glasses (that were adorably slipping down his nose, _aw!_ Mattie was _so cute_ when he was annoyed!)

"Ah, hey, Mattie." Alfred gave a nervous laugh. Mattie may be the picture of cute when annoyed, but _he can make people cry_. Alfred didn't feel like crying right then, nuh-uh. "I was just, uh-"

"Making an ass of yourself?" Matthew snapped. "Ludwig was the one to bring me to the nurse's, even sat with me, you said it yourself!" He turned to Ludwig then, mood completely reversed. "That was very sweet of you, Ludwig, thank you." He even blushed. _Blushed_. Turning back to his brother, that blush turned into an angry flush. "And you! You were about to chew him out for something he hasn't done! Nobody is keeping me up at night, okay? I was sick! I probably still am! _That's why I haven't been sleeping well_, Alfred!"

Alfred's eyes had watered a bit, and he had been slowly backing up while Matthew slowly edged closer. Eventually, Alfred's back hit a wall, and Matthew couldn't invade his personal bubble any further.

"Ah, Matthew, it's alright," Ludwig cut in, hand on Matthew's shoulder. "I understand the concern. If I believed someone was harming my brother, I would confront them about my suspicions, too."

Matthew sighed, deflating, and looked down at his shoes, stepping back out of a sniffling Alfred's face. "I'm sorry, Al," Matthew sighed, and Ludwig patted his shoulder.

"So-sorry, Mattie," Alfred sniveled and hugged his brother tight, feeling his heart warm when Mattie hugged him back. "I won't yell at anybody anymore. I'm sorry."

Ludwig hid a smile as he left. Now, if only Gilbert could be resolved that easily. He'd been cackling at weird times, staring off into space, and whispering with Francis, who had been eying him in new, _frightening_ ways...

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**Author's Notes.**

I love coming back to this story after awhile (although, I do feel guilty that "after awhile" is seriously "after _awhile_") and seeing how many awesome reviews I have after only three chapters (and being left to rot off and on for, oh, two years). You guys are amazing and deserve better D: Dang it, me.

I like writing as Gil. He's so much fun.

Maximo Park has been proving to be the perfect band to listen to while writing this. "Our Velocity" reminds me of both Gilbert and Alfred, although a bit more Alfred than Gilbert, I think. _I buy books/I never read/then I tell you some more about/me!_ Anybody?

Hey, guys, who should end up with who? I haven't quite decided yet (and no worries, the Italy twins show up soon).


	5. Don't Go BEEPing My Brother!

**Warning.** More cursing, and I said "fag" a lot. Sorry.

**Owning **_**Hetalia**_** seems like it would take too much work, so no.**

* * *

Ludwig was not having a very good day. It had started with waking up with Feliciano in his bed, crying about bad dreams and Lovino kicking him out of their room. Then, he'd missed breakfast and accidentally hurt himself helping Roderich and Elizaveta move a piano from the music department, so he was stuck with a brace on his wrist and spreading, purple bruise on the inside of his forearm (which Feliciano had cried over, Lovino had poked mercilessly, and his brother had laughed at). Then, his brother started asking him about Matthew (You hang out with him? Try his pancake yet? Did you know he's a beast at ice hockey? Never get him pissed off, keep that in mind. Don't you think he's adorable?)

Now, Francis was sitting across from him in the cafeteria, watching him with a calculating look in his eyes.

"I have to thank you for helping my cousin, Matthew, a week ago, my friend," he told him after an uncomfortably drawn out silence.

Ludwig simply nodded, sipping his root beer and doing his damn best not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. Would all of Matthew's family members get the wrong impression of him and try to talk to him about Matthew? Ludwig was just waiting for Arthur to walk up and start spouting nonsense next.

"I've heard from a very reliable source that you and he have been getting along quite well," Francis continued, that glint in his eye growing. Ludwig was reminded of Elizaveta for a moment, and a chill he would never admit to crawled down his spine.

"I've only spoken to him a few times, but I...have enjoyed speaking with him, yes." He couldn't speak for Matthew, of course, but he liked to think that the other had enjoyed their chats as well. In the week since Ludwig had carried the unconscious Matthew to the nurse's office, they'd bumped into each other quite a bit. Neither, apparently, had really noticed before just how similar their schedules were. So, they followed what felt to be the natural order of things and became something like friends (although Ludwig always felt mildly uncomfortable calling anyone _a friend_. When one has Gilbert as a brother, Roderic as a mentor, and Feliciano as a best-friend-who-can't-remember-to-wear-pants-and-constantly-wakes-up-in-his-bed-naked-and-clingy, one doesn't do very well with average social interaction).

Francis chuckled and watched him for another uncomfortably silent moment. "That same source of mine believes that you may have a _crush_ on little Matthew."

Ludwig, to his credit, didn't blush as terribly as expected and just tightened his grip on his bottle enough to expel only a little puddle of soda. "And just who, may I ask, is your source?"

"Ah-ah-ah!" Francis grinned deviously, and Ludwig felt that chill again. "I never reveal my sources, my friend. However, I believe he may be right." His grinned toed the line between devious and dangerous, then, and Ludwig felt much more than a chill. "If you upset Matthew even in the slightest bit, not only will I have something to say to you about it, but I'm sure you're more than familiar by now with how over protective of him his brother, Alfred, can be..." Francis stood up suddenly, all charming smiles and once more. "I'm glad we had this talk. Until later!" And, with that, he left.

Ludwig died a little inside.

* * *

Gilbert cackled to himself as he waited in the rec. room for Mattie. Alfred had been practically nonexistent the passed week, sulking in corners and crying to Arthur about how his "little, baby brother" was giving him the cold shoulder. Mattie's patience with the other was a little short now. Gilbert had heard about how the normally passive-aggressive little kid had almost made his asshole brother cry (damn, he wished he's seen that or that Westen had been awesome enough to get a video of it at least). Westen had _said_ they'd made up, but then Alfred had pushed his luck and had tried to threaten Westen again. He might've gotten away with it, only he'd done it within Mattie's ear shot. Big mistake. Apparently, Alfred _had_ cried that time (he didn't get to see that, either! Damn Westen, why couldn't you be at least a _tiny_ bit more awesome? Shit).

With Alfred sulking, Mattie and Westen had been hanging out a lot all week. It made Gilbert's skin crawl, but he told himself that it was all according to plan. He'd let them get all faggy (but not in bed or dating or anything, fuck, no), let them have their gay little bromance they had building (because, damn it, he didn't want to admit this to _anyone, __**ever**_, but he cared about both the little fags, and if they wanted to be friends then, _shit_, he'd let them be _friends_), then he'd talk Alfred up into being jealous, and they'd both swoop in and take their brother's full attention back to where it rightly should be, god damn it.

It wasn't like _Gilbert_ the _Awesome_ himself was jealous or anything, _no_. Westen could have friends. He let Feliciano hang around him all the time, but that was fucking hilarious, whatever weird thing they had going on. Besides, everybody knew by now that Feliciano and Lovino had it up for each other (Antonio thought their relationship was adorable; Lovino called him a fucking pedophilic pervert. Antonio had just laughed and called him cute). He even let fucking _Roderich_ and _Elizaveta_ stay Westen's friends. That was fucking love right there, man, letting Westen still associate with them, shit.

So, no, not jealous. Mattie wouldn't be any different from Westen's other friends. He wasn't jealous.

Fuck _off_.

This plan would work, okay? He just had to talk to Mattie and make sure the kid knew not to try anything faggoty with his brother, 'cause...'cause Westen didn't _swing_ that way. Yeah. That's what he was going to tell Mattie.

...what if that didn't work, though? Kid was related to Francis. Since when did the side you buttered your toast on ever mean shit to that guy?

Well, then, he'd tell him Westen already had someone. A girlfriend. Living in Canada.

...Mattie was from Canada.

_Fuck_.

He scowled at the table. Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all, letting his brother and Mattie be friends. Maybe he should just go to Mattie's asshole brother now and tell him to get his brother as far away from Gilbert's brother as possible. Maybe-

Wait, no, fuck that. That was running away. Only fucking _pansies_ run away, goddamn it. That wasn't awesome at all. Gilbert was far too fucking _awesome_ to ever even _consider_ running away!

"Um. Gilbert?"

Besides, Mattie was civil, kid could listen to reason. He wasn't like his pig-headed brother, and he wasn't goddamn Francis either. Kid wouldn't just want into Westen's pants. What was Gilbert freaking out about?

"Gilbert?"

And, besides, Gilbert was _awesome!_ He didn't _need_ to be jealous about any damn thing, because who could ever want anybody over the awesome that was him, Gilbert the Awesome? Westen would always like him best!

The fact that he and Westen had only spoken in passing twice in the last week didn't mean shit!

"...Gilbert, I think you're breaking the table?"

The table edge he'd been clutching in a white knuckled grip finally decided to give up on life and snap off, and Gilbert didn't yelp like a toy dog, no, he fucking _didn't._

He looked up to see Mattie wince, concern evident in his expression. "You look upset," he said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Gilbert said quickly, voice too loud and too high and _fuck_, Mattie was looking at him funny. Remember reason, Gil, the kid would listen to reason! "Don't go fucking my brother, Mattie!"

Matt blushed all the way to the roots of his hair, and he could feel a flush spread down passed his collar as the tips of his ears burned. "Wh-wh-wh-wha-what?" He squeaked out. "I don't want to-!"

"Good!" Gilbert snapped, and with that, he stalked out, leaving Matt to ask himself,

"What just happened?"

* * *

**Author's Notes.**

This one's kinda short, I think, sorry, guys. I feel really bad about not updating in for ever and ever before, so here. Quality over quantity, I know, would be better, but :c

Apparently I always spell "Canada" wrong. I always forget an "a" and spell "Canda." Darn it.

I hope everyone had a boss 4th of July, if you go about celebratin' 'merica. I went and watched a fireworks display on the third. Stayed at the beach for ten. Fucking. Hours. I have the sunburn to prove it. I hate everyone that's ever existed because of it. I am so white that I didn't even tan, I singed. I am a lobster, and nobody cares :c

Thanks for reading!


	6. Disproportionate Amount of Time Together

**Warning. **Gay. Cursing.

**No.**

* * *

Well, Alfred's day _sucked_. He knew it wasn't very optimistic or heroic of him to be all sulky and angst-y, but come on! It'd started out suck-y, and then it had just gone right on down hill from there.

First, he'd woken up at the ungodly hour of six in the morning thanks to a leg spasm (what did Arthur call those? Charlie horses? They hurt like a _mother fucker_) that caused him to screech and flail and fall out of bed (no one must know!) His leg still hurt so bad that he ended up limping a little, hobbling everywhere. If anyone asked, he made up new, increasingly ridiculous stories (Arthur bit me! Kuma-what's-his-name attacked me, I'm lucky to be alive. That German dude just started beating me in the leg, I don't know, man! Aliens).

Then! He'd walked (hobbled) down to breakfast, and Mattie was _still ignoring him_. He was eating breakfast with the German bastard! He was laughing and blushing and looking absolutely adorable, and the German dude was actually _smiling_. Smiling! Alfred didn't know his face could do that! When he tried to go over to say hi, good morning, remember me, your awesome brother? His stupid dead leg spasmed, and he ended up flailing and landing face first on the floor. The only good thing to come out of it was Mattie's alarmed gasp and, "Al, are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah!" He'd jumped right back up and wiped his running nose (his eyes hadn't teared up, no). "I'm totally okay!"

Mattie _should_ have persisted on checking him over, taking him to the nurse, making sure he was really okay... Instead, he shrugged and said, "If you're sure," and went back to his conversation with the German guy! _Like nothing had happened!_ (And, _no_, it didn't make Alfred feel like crying, those were _not_ tears in his eyes, sh-shut up!)

After that, he, of all people, hadn't felt very hungry... He'd wandered over to the rec. room and slumped down into a seat at a broken table. He'd vaguely wondered why it was missing an edge, but he hadn't really cared enough to give it too much thought. He'd given a gloomy sigh and tilted his head back to watch the ceiling fan spin in a lazy circle. There, he'd found Kuma-what's-his-name, who had toddled over, put his paws on Alfred's knee, and asked, "Who?"

Alfred kind of broke down then.

It was only eight in the morning.

* * *

Matthew _did_ feel a little guilty for ignoring his brother for so long... It'd been a couple of weeks since he'd started the cold shoulder thing, and it really seemed to be depressing Al. He hadn't thought it'd work so well. Normally, either Al managed to find something to make it up to him (or he tried so "heroically" that Matt just gave up and gave in) or Matt just couldn't keep it up. He didn't like making his brother sad, after all...

"Matthew? Are you feeling alright?"

"Huh?" Matthew looked up, across the table he was sharing in the rec. room with Ludwig, and found the other blond giving him a look of concern. It was so nice, having someone worry about you over the little things like melancholy expressions or deep sighs. "Oh, I'm alright. I just feel bad. I haven't really spoken to my brother in...two, three weeks?"

Ludwig nodded, giving a sigh of his own. "I believe I may have been ignoring my own brother, as well."

"Did Gilbert do something?" Matthew asked, curious. He hadn't exactly told Ludwig about Gilbert's, ah..._out burst_ that one day. He'd been far too embarrassed.

"No, no. For once, he isn't doing anything." Ludwig blanched. "He isn't _doing anything_. My God, now I'm concerned."

Matthew laughed a little, patting his arm across the table. Neither of them were very physically affectionate people, and that worked just well for them. Actually, a lot of their quirks worked just fine between the two of them. They'd become excellent friends over the last few weeks, and it was likely they'd remain friends. "I think we've been monopolizing each others time, haven't we?" Matthew asked.

"Ah, I believe we have. Feliciano was saying something about _love_, and Francis..." Both men shuddered. _Francis_. "We may be spending a disproportionate amount of time together." (They both ignored the _love_ comment. Too soon, too soon).

"Well, I don't mind it," Matthew admitted with a light blush. "I like spending time with you. It's nice to finally have a friend that can recognize me immediately and won't ask for something."

"I know what you mean," Ludwig agreed. "To have a friend that's actually _sane_ and can remember to be fully clothed, respects personal space... How novel." (And, actually, how sad. Was everyone they knew really that insane? The answer was _yes_. Yes, they were.)

"It's no wonder we spend so much time together, then. It's kind of like..." Matthew hummed, trying to think of the right phrase to describe his and Ludwig's friendship. "Like, a breath of fresh air."

"That's a rather poetic way to describe us," Ludwig said, amused but not denying. Matthew was rather like a peaceful reprieve from his otherwise chaotic life.

"And, our spending time together seems to have improved the twins' relationship," Matthew pointed out.

"True." Feliciano and Lovino _were_ spending a lot more time together, now that Ludwig had another friend. Feliciano had told him that now he didn't have to worry about Ludwig getting lonely (Lovino said that now he might actually get laid).

A comfortable silence came over them then, and Kumahugo came over, placing his chin on Ludwig's knee. Ludwig had become accustomed to this, as Kumahugo seemed to have taken a liking to him. He didn't even ask, "Who?" It always mildly annoyed Matthew that his own pet could remember Ludwig but not his owner. Ludwig petted through the fur on Kumahugo's head as the pair watched the large screened TV in the rec. room. Some American football game was on. It was at least something to watch.

"Bet Alfred left the TV on," Matthew sighed. (Actually, he didn't. It had been Francis and Arthur; a baseball game had been on just before).

Ludwig chuckled a bit, and Kumahugo shuffled over to his owner, struggling his way up into Matthew's lap with a little help. "I'm sure it was. Are we still going to dinner?"

"Oh, yeah, sure, if you still want to." There was a blush on Matthew's cheeks again, and that traitor thought (_pretty_) came to mind once more.

* * *

Look at them, all..._happy_. God, it was sickening. Who knew Westen was such a fag? Gilbert scowled and sat slouched down into the couch, arms crossed and expression sour. Goddamn Westen. Goddamn Matt. Goddamn polar bear thing! And Goddamn _Alfred_ for not doing the awesome thing and trying to take his brother back! (Gilbert assured himself that _he_, however, was doing the awesome thing, despite the fact that he hadn't made a move to take Ludwig back at all). The American ass was just...sulking in a seat by that table he may or may not have broken a couple weeks ago in a fit of jealous rage. Fucking faggot looked like he'd been _crying_ earlier. His face was all red and splotchy, and he kept sniffling.

Well, enough of this shit.

Gilbert got up and stalked over to Alfred, sitting down in the seat opposite him and glaring. Alfred sniffed and angrily wiped his eyes. "Wh-what do _you_ want?"

"I want the same thing you want, asshole," Gilbert snapped. "I want my brother to be paying attention to _just_ the awesome me, not your admittedly kind of awesome brother. Just me! And _you_, you want your kind of awesome brother to be paying attention to _just_ you, too."

Alfred sniffled again. "How do you know that, huh?"

"Dude, you're crying like a bitch. What do you mean, _how do I know?_"

Alfred chose not to say anything about that. "Well, then how do you plan on getting them to pay attention to us instead?"

Gilbert grinned, and it was not a nice grin. It was a devious, evil, insane grin (so, really, it was Gilbert's face). "Oh, no worries, dude. I got a plan."

* * *

**Author's Notes.**

I've notices how you guys are all, "Oh, poor Matthew! Poor Ludwig!" Even, "Poor Gilbert!" But nobody's going, "Poor Alfred!" So, here you go. Poor Alfred.

I'm still up in the air about who's going to get paired with who. The Italy twins are set with each other, but I don't know about anybody else. Suggestions?

Thanks for reading!


	7. Your Plan Sucked

**Warning. **There's actually not that much cursing this time. Still gay.

**:c**

* * *

It was a little unnerving, Matthew decided a week later, that he hadn't seen Alfred at all (he hadn't even burst in one his and Ludwig's loosely termed "date"). When he'd asked Arthur, the man had just shrugged and said, "At least it's quiet." That had definitely gotten Matthew worried. It was only quiet when Alfred was sick, gone, or something was seriously wrong. He decided to drop the cold shoulder and find his brother, just to make sure everything was okay with him. If he didn't apologize somewhere in there (doubtful he would), then the cold shoulder would simply recommence (doubtful he'd be able to keep it up for long).

Ludwig, too, was concerned for his brother. When one has Gilbert (the Awesome) for a brother, one becomes used to seeing him at odd hours of the day, every day. Ludwig couldn't actually remember the last time he had seen his brother (without Matthew present). Both he and Matthew had decided to find their brothers to check up on them, then once they were sure everything was alright, they'd meet up for their planned lunch date (if everything wasn't alright, Ludwig knew Matthew would likely have some sort of guilt ridden panic attack).

* * *

They couldn't find them _anywhere_.

"Now I'm really worried," Matthew admitted, pulling at his long sleeves and biting his lip, staring holes into the table he and Ludwig were sharing in the rec. room. "I couldn't find Alfred anywhere. Not even Arthur's seen him..." He swallowed around a guilty lump in his throat. Oh, _please_, let Alfred be okay, he thought to himself.

Ludwig reached across the table and took Matthew's hand. Very slowly, their affections had been escalating from "arm pats" to "one armed hugs" and now to "very slight hand holding." A few onlookers were occasionally impressed (Gilbert and Alfred, less so). "Perhaps he's with my brother. I wasn't able to find him, either."

Matthew gave a little laugh and shook his head. "I thought they hated each other."

("Why would Mattie think we hated each other?" "I do hate you." "Oh." "You're pretty unawesome." "...hey!")

Ludwig shrugged and patted Matthew's hand, and Matthew gently squeezed his back ("Goddamn it, they're holding hands." "Mattie, no!"). They shared a smile, and then the moment was ruined by a, "Ve~! Ludwig!" Ludwig managed to tense in time to support Feliciano's sudden weight attached to his back. "I thought you were having lunch with your new friend..." He said and trailed off, looking around the room.

"I am, Feliciano. Please get off."

"Ve~ I don't seem him..." Feliciano did get off, though (mostly because Lovino had finally caught up and had all but yanked his brother back into his arms). "Where is he? Did you lie about having a friend, Ludwig?' His eyes had begun to water, and he was about to launch into another koala-esque hug when Matthew spoke up.

"I'm right here, eh." He sighed and pointed to himself.

That miraculously caught the twins' attention, ("Oh! Ve, there he is!" "_Goddamn_, don't _do_ that, bastard!") and Feliciano instead squirmed out of his brother's hold and into Matthew's lap, attaching himself to the blond now. "You are real! You're, you're... Oh, ve, I don't remember your name..." He trailed off, looking sad, and Matthew managed a smile through his embarrassment (climbing into his lap? _Really?_ Ludwig hadn't been kidding...)

"Matthew. My name's Matthew."

"_Matteo!_ Yes, yes, I remember!" He beamed, nearly bouncing, and Matthew lost his breath when the boy _did_ start bouncing.

"Oi, bastard, get off," Lovino snapped, and Feliciano obediently went over to his brother to nuzzle his head against the others. "Are we done yet? I'm hungry."

"But, _fratello_, Gilbert said we had to-"

("Don't go blowing it, you little brat!" "Hush!" "Oh, that's rich, _you_ telling someone to hush up, nice."

"I'm _hungry_, Feli. We could make pasta," Lovino tried again.

"Pasta~!" Feliciano immediately cried and dragged a now much less sour looking Lovino out of the rec. room.

A moment of silence passed, and Matthew finally broke it by clearing his throat. "That was, um..."

"Awkward," Ludwig supplied.

"Yes, awkward. You weren't kidding when you said they were..."

"Odd."

Matthew hummed. "Feliciano reminds me of Francis, if Francis were any sort of innocent."

That actually got a laugh out of Ludwig, and Matthew joined him.

("What the fuck! They're laughing! Goddamn Italian brats didn't do shit! I told you they were a bad choice! They couldn't make _dirt_ upset." "I don't want Mattie upset! He _knows_ when I'm doing it on purpose. It makes him mad. I don't want Mattie mad." Which was synonymous with, "I don't want to cry.")

"I wonder why they suddenly popped up, though?" Matthew mused out loud, and Ludwig shrugged.

"You get used to it, I suppose. Feliciano did say something about Gilbert... I suppose that means he's spoken to them, and that he's alright. I wonder what he had told them to do, though..."

("You choose now of all times to be awesome, Westen?" "Your brother sucks.")

Matthew promptly wilted, because Gilbert immediately transitioned to Alfred in his mind. "I hope Alfie's okay..."

("Aw! Did you hear that? _Alfie..._" "Shut up, idiot. Your plan sucked. I told you we should've used my _awesome_ plan first." "Your plan sucked ass. We always go with the Hero's plans!" "_Shut up with the goddamn hero shit!"_)

* * *

**Author's Notes.**

Can you see what Gilbo and Alfie are doing there? Yes? No? Don't worry, it'll all be clear in a chapter or two.

I'm on a goddamn roll with these. I hope it's a good roll and not a mediocre roll, though, 'cause you guys deserve better than that. I've been getting a lot of neat reviews about who should go with who, but nothing definitive yet. Maybe I should make a poll? Would you guys vote?

Thanks for reading!


	8. Derp

**I'M EDITING THIS, SO KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR THE EDITED VERSION TITLED, _"Can't Live Without 'Em."_**


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